Warning: Frank discussion about sex and references to questionable consent. Snow's a bastard. But we knew that already.

Previously on Participant:

We run to see what's wrong with our baby, and as soon as I enter the room, I see why Prim is so scared.

Standing there in an impeccable white suit with a bright red flower boutonniere is President Coriolanus Snow.

And he's holding our daughter.

oOo

Participant
By FanficAllergy

oOo

Chapter Two

oOo

I take a few steps forward, holding my arms out to take my daughter. "President Snow. What an honor to see you."

The man ignores my wordless request. Instead, he smiles at me ferally. "My dear Mrs. Mellark. I thought we agreed not to lie to each other."

I drop my arms in defeat, my eyes locked onto the infant in the President's arms. She's awake, but rather than fussing like I'd expect her to be this close to her feeding time, she's calm. Instead, she seems to be staring with rapt fascination at Snow's face.

"What else do you expect my wife to say when the President of Panem is in her sister's house, holding our daughter?" Peeta asks, squaring his shoulders.

Snow's eyes flit to my husband. "Ah, Mr. Mellark. I do believe this is the first time we've had a chance to really talk. Though I've quite enjoyed the conversations I've had with your lovely wife. I hope you're as stimulating a conversationalist as she is." The old man pauses. "Has your wife informed you of our little tête-a-têtes?"

"We've talked."

We haven't really. Peeta's lying. I hope he's a better liar than I am.

"Ah. I see," Snow purrs, his eyes flicking from Peeta to me and then back again. "I've always said there should be no secrets between man and wife. It is good to know you two, despite, shall we say, circumstances, have managed to forge such a strong bond of marriage."

"Why are you here, sir?" I ask, anxious for him to get to the point so I can get my family to safety.

"I wanted to meet darling Pulcheria, of course." Cradling the baby closer in his arms, he runs one finger down her cheek. "She really is a beautiful child. Why, I think she's going to have blue eyes, just like you, Mr. Mellark. I suppose that will make maintaining the fiction that she's yours easier." He pauses briefly for effect. "But we all know it's merely a fiction, do we not?"

Peeta refuses to be cowed. "Excuse me for saying so, sir, but I hardly think you'd take time out of your busy schedule just to come all this way to see a two month old infant, no matter how beautiful she is."

Snow's eyes glitter dangerously. "You are correct, my dear Mr. Mellark." President Snow turns to me. "My doctors have informed me that you have fully recovered from the birth of our darling Pulcheria. They have reported that you are now able to resume your marital duties, my dear Mrs. Mellark. I believe they have informed you of the same." His eyes narrow. "Is that correct?"

I nod my head. It's what I'd been thinking about this morning. I hadn't had a chance to tell Peeta the news, and now he gets to hear it from Snow himself.

The feral smile returns. "I'm pleased to hear that, Mrs. Mellark. I think our darling Pulcheria here would be happy to have a playmate her own age, don't you agree?"

Snow can't be asking…

Peeta seems to come to the same conclusion. "There's lots of kids her age around here. I'm sure she won't have any problem making friends when she's old enough."

"Ah. You misunderstand me, Mr. Mellark." Snow's voice becomes hard. "I wasn't talking about a schoolmate, I was thinking more in terms of something a little closer to home. A brother, perhaps. Or a sister. I'm not picky. Yes, I do think darling Pulcheria would be happier with a sibling close to her in age."

"There's no guarantee I'll be able to get pregnant right away," I try to protest.

"You bring up a good point, Mrs. Mellark. One I shall discuss with my physicians." He fixes me with those frightening snake-like yellow eyes. "However, it is abundantly clear that you will not get pregnant unless you try. And it is my understanding that you haven't been trying very hard."

"What do you-"

Snow cuts me off. "I suspect Mr. Mellark here is as virginal as a bride on her wedding day. Well, not you, Katniss my dear, of course. But you understand the simile." He looks at us, his eyes growing hard. "People are starting to have doubts about the two of you. They are starting to think this romantic tale you have woven is no more real than the plot of a novel or soap opera. Some are starting to feel cheated. Duped. While others are coming up with even more dangerous conclusions. Conclusions that threaten the very fabric of Panem."

"It must be a very flimsy fabric," Peeta interjects.

"More than you would think," Snow snaps.

His anger causes my heart to race and I want nothing more than to snatch my daughter from his arms and flee to someplace safe. But I can't, instead I take Peeta's hand trying to convey to him that he needs to be more careful.

The President sees the gesture and gives me an approving nod. "I have worked very hard to prevent Panem from ripping itself apart," he says tightly, clearly still incensed at Peeta's interruption. "I will not have two teenagers threaten what I have worked so hard to preserve." Snow gets himself under control, bouncing Willow a bit. "As I said, some people are starting to have doubts. I have doubts. I don't want to have any doubts. Do you understand?"

"I don't know what I can do to convince you that I love Katniss," Peeta protests. "I do. I've loved her since I was five years old. I'd do anything for her!"

"I'm counting on that. Besides, it's not you I'm concerned about," Snow says. He looks at me pointedly.

I struggle not to fidget under Snow's steady gaze. "I care about Peeta," I hedge. "He's a good man. And a good father."

"But not a lover."

Peeta and I share a look.

"Just what are you asking us to do?" I finally ask. I'm not any good at these games of verbal cat and mouse.

"So direct. That's what I like about you, Mrs. Mellark. It's refreshing." Snow smiles at me briefly before sobering. "I understand your marriage to Peeta is still unconsummated. I wish for that to be rectified. Immediately." There's no room for argument in his tone. "I want no one to doubt your commitment to each other. And on your upcoming tour, you will be the epitome of a young happy family whose parents are desperately in love with each other. I do not want to hear any talk of your romance being a trick to fool the Capitol."

I swallow thickly. "We'll convince the districts, sir."

"No. Do better." He places my daughter in my arms, leaning forward to whisper in my ear, "Convince me."

oOo

The walk back to our house is done in silence, the gravel crunching under our feet. I glance at my husband and daughter, trying to make sure they're both okay.

Almost as soon as Snow left, Peeta swooped in, fretting over Willow, anxious to hold the little girl in his arms. I was reluctant to let her go, but I know just how much Peeta needs my daughter's love and affection. He wants to be a good father. He wants to keep her safe. Seeing Snow holding her in his arms, knowing all it would take was one cruel twist of his hands or him choosing to let her go and, poof, she'd be gone, lost to us forever... I think that shook him more than any of the words that came out of the president's mouth.

Peeta pauses on our front porch, looking over at me. "What'd Snow say?"

I don't bother asking him what he meant. "He told me we have to convince him."

"How?"

"I think he was pretty clear about that."

Peeta looks at me in confusion. "About us…"

"Let's go inside." I sigh. "It's not like anything we say is going to be any surprise to Snow at this point."

"I hate this. Knowing that no matter what we do, we'll always have someone watching."

"I do too."

"I'm sorry," Peeta says. "I got you into this. It's my fault you're not happy."

"Peeta…"

"Don't lie to me, Katniss. I know you're not happy. I can tell."

I don't know what to tell him to make him feel better. I'm not happy, but I don't think anyone would be in my situation. But I'm not as unhappy as I'd thought I would be, and that's thanks to Peeta. Deciding to take a chance, I lean up and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You make this life better. I don't blame you for any of this. It's not your fault." I cup his face. "Come on, we need to go inside."

Once we're indoors, I take Willow up to her room. Sitting down in the rocking chair Peeta bought just for me, I open my shirt to feed my daughter. While she feeds, I hum softly to her the same songs my father used to sing to me when I was a little girl.

Downstairs, I can hear Peeta pulling out pans and bowls, slamming them down onto the counter. He's baking something, probably bread, even though we already have plenty of baked goods. Peeta keeps all of us stocked in baked goods even though we don't really need them.

I'm glad Peeta waited until Willow was eating before making such a ruckus downstairs. Willow's never been one of those babies who can sleep through everything. She's always been a light sleeper and startles awake at the oddest of sounds. Considering Peeta jerks awake every other night or so with a nightmare, it's a wonder that any of us get any sleep.

Eventually I the clamor downstairs lessens. Good, he's calming down. I glance down at my daughter and note Willow is starting to reach the end of her feeding and is falling back asleep. To help her along, I hum the Valley Song. It's always been her favorite lullaby.

When I finish, I look up to see Peeta standing in the doorway, watching us. "I thought you were baking." I don't bother to cover myself in front of him. After he stayed through Willow's birth, it seems kind of silly.

"Just a spice cake. I'll make the cream cheese frosting later."

"Sounds delicious. Are you feeling better?" I ask.

He sighs. "Not really."

I nod my head but don't bother trying to talk anymore. Talking isn't going to solve our problems. Snow was pretty clear about that.

Placing Willow into her cradle, I turn on her little nightlight and take the receiver for the baby monitor with me. That's one gift I'm actually grateful for.

When we returned home from the Capitol, we found a huge pile of gifts. Some of it was absurd. I mean, who needs a two story chandelier? But other gifts were actually really useful. Like the baby monitor. If I knew who'd sent it, I'd thank them. However, most of the gifts came unlabeled and I have the uneasy feeling that many of them may have come from the Horns, and I don't think sending a thank you note to their Avox daughter would be in good form.

When we get downstairs, Peeta helps me make dinner. Our conversation is kept deliberately light. It's nothing special, just some basic stew. While I work, Peeta takes the cake out of the oven, setting it out to cool.

"Are we gonna talk about this?" I ask, setting our two bowls down on the table.

Peeta sighs. "We probably should. We're in this together, right?"

I nod my head, reaching my hand out to clasp his.

"It's just… other than that, I don't know what Snow expects us to do. I love you, Katniss."

"I know."

"But you don't love me."

We've had this conversation before. It never gets any easier. I feel like I should return Peeta's feelings. And I like him. I do. He just confuses me. I know I feel something for him, but it isn't the same kind of love I feel for Prim, my father, or even Willow. It's different and I don't have a name for it. I'm not even sure if it is love. "You're a good friend," I say instead. "And you're my husband."

"But you don't feel the same way about me that I feel about you."

I hate seeing the pain in his eyes, pain I've caused, but I won't lie to him. I can't. "I'm not like you, Peeta," I tell him sadly. "There's only two people in this world who I'm sure I love."

"Willow and Prim," Peeta says without hesitation.

I nod my head again. There's nothing I can say to make this better.

Our back door opens and a rusty voice calls out, "Hey kids, ya decent?"

Haymitch.

"We're in the kitchen," Peeta calls back, shaking his head wryly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Haymitch drawls, sauntering into the room. "Hello, Sweetheart. Kid. Heard about your surprise visit."

"Prim told you?" I say with a sigh. I'm grateful for his interruption, but I'm not sure I really want to talk to him about my love life.

"Girl was scared. Came running, desperate for her old mentor's help. Can't blame her. Snow's a scary bastard, but he already knows that." He pulls out a smooth metal flask and takes a long pull. "Seems you two are in a bit of a pickle. Or, rather, his pickle hasn't been in you. Am I on the right track?"

I make a face at his crude metaphor but he's not wrong. "Something like that," I answer. "Snow's not convinced we're as in love as we're supposed to be."

"Can't say I blame him," he says, narrowing his eyes at the two of us. "You guys are in a heapload of like. You haven't quite fallen in love. Stepped in it a few times." He pauses to take a drink. "Now, please tell me you two have at least played tonsil hockey."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I give him a look. "What's that?"

"Right. Need to lay off Jo's slang for a bit. Kissing." He makes a smacking sound. "We're talking about kissing."

Peeta and I blush. We've experimented with kissing. Nothing like the makeout sessions I had with Gale that one night, but they were nice. I found myself liking Peeta's kisses and sometimes I wanted more.

Peeta regards the older man. "Of course we have."

"Have you kissed him like you meant it, Sweetheart? I'm not talking about those dainty pecks you displayed at the wedding. I'm talking about tongue battling, teeth clacking, lip smashing kisses."

"We've come close."

"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, sweetheart. And I'm afraid Snow ain't playin' horseshoes." He pats Peeta's hand awkwardly. "That's alright. Now I know the girl here at least has done the deed once. What about you, kid? Have you ridden the beast with two backs yet?"

Peeta shakes his head.

Haymitch gives me a sympathetic look. "Ah. I feel sorry for you, Katniss. This is gonna be a whole lotta fun."

"Can we just get on with it?" I ask, glaring at the older man. "Why are you here?"

"I figured you two wouldn't want to be in the family way just yet, not while you're still figuring out if slot A goes into tab B." He demonstrates with his fingers. "Or is it C? Or D. Not like there's a lack of options."

Peeta's had enough. "Get to the point, Haymitch."

"Thought I'd come by and see if you need any mentorly advice."

"I'm not really sure we need your help," Peeta says, mimicking my crossed arm stance. "My brothers talked a lot about it so I've got the gist."

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "Kid's got the gist. Can you believe him?" he asks me what I think is rhetorically. "Well, even if you don't need my advice, you probably do need this." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rectangular box that's about the size of my hand. On it is the word 'Trojan.' "Now, we're gonna have to hope these'll fit you, kid. 'Cause prophylactics are hard to come by out here in the sticks."

"What are these?" Peeta picks up the box curiously, turning it over in his hands. "What's a prophylactic? What in the world are you talking about?"

Haymitch sighs. "I was afraid of this. You ever heard of a condom?"

Peeta shakes his head.

"I have," I say, eyeing the box nervously. "They're illegal, but a few people sell them."

"Thank goodness for small favors. Now I suppose it'd be askin' too much to hope you know what to do with a condom."

"Sorry."

Haymitch sighs. "I expected as much, seeing as you got knocked up." The mentor squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath before launching into his explanation, "Right, so you slip this little sheath onto the kid's sword. It's like rollin' on a sock. Only you gotta make sure you leave room for the toes at the end."

The metaphor goes over my head and I see Peeta's just as confused as I am.

"You two ain't makin' this easy on me," Haymitch grumbles. "You never did. I don't know who I pissed off to be stuck with the pair of you."

That's it. I'm done. "Look, if you don't want to help us, you can just leave."

"Trust me, it's tempting. But I'm trying to do you kids a favor. Now. Ya got a cucumber? I only want to do this once."

oOo

I stand in Willow's nursery, sipping a cup of tea, listening to Peeta read our daughter a bedtime story. We both know she's a bit too young to fully understand what's happening, but Willow seems to like being read to and Peeta likes reading to her. He asks so little of me. At least I can give him this.

Peeta finishes the story about a lumberjack and his big blue ox and closes the book, looking up at me. "Do you want to put her down?"

I shrug. "Do you?" I ask.

Peeta smiles, running a hand over Willow's baby-fine black hair. "Yeah. I kinda do. They're only this little once, you know. And she's growing so fast." The love and wonder I see on his face as he gazes down at my child makes me forget for a moment that Willow isn't really his.

I wish Snow hadn't given us this ultimatum. Peeta's a good man. I think, given time, we would've come together on our own. Snow's demand threatens to destroy the friendship and trust Peeta and I have spent the last few months painstakingly building. I don't want to lose what I have with him. But I can't sacrifice my family either. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.

With Willow settled, Peeta walks over to me. I can tell he's nervous. He's got the same set to his shoulders he had on that day in the Justice Building. Like he's unsure of what he's supposed to do. And I know this time, unlike then, it'll be up to me to take the lead.

"Do we-"

I nod my head. "Yes," I say, cutting him off. I know what he's going to ask. He's asked the same question in various forms all night. "Snow's made himself clear," I tell him. "We don't have a choice. Not if we want to keep the people we love safe."

Peeta nods. "It's just… I don't want to hurt you, Katniss."

"If we do this right, you won't," I tell him.

"I wish…"

"I know," I sigh. "Come here." I open my arms, letting him decide if he wants to take the next step.

After a moment he does, wrapping his whole body around me. We stand there for a time, just taking comfort in each other, before I tilt my head up and kiss him gently on his jaw. Then I repeat the motion on the other side.

He pulls back, reaching up with both hands to cup my face. "Katniss, are you sure?" His eyes bore into mine, searching for an answer.

I nod my head, pulling his head down to mine to capture his lips. Unlike our previous kisses, this one is deeper, more sensual, nothing like his first kiss or even any of the kisses that have come after.

I run my tongue over his lower lip, asking for entrance.

He pulls back in confusion, the tendon in his jaw working overtime. "That's-"

I silence him with another kiss. Snow's made it clear what we have to do. And as much as I don't want to, I know what will happen if we don't. Prim's modified body is proof enough Snow will make good on his threat.

I take a step back and reach up to clasp his hands in mine. "Come on," I whisper, leading him out of the room. "Let's go to bed."

oOo

After, Peeta buries his face against my neck and cries. I hold him close, stroking his back. Trying to give him comfort and solace.

"Never again, Katniss," he whispers brokenly.

"We have to." My voice catches and I realize I'm crying as well. I tried to tell myself that I'd be okay. That we'd be okay. But I was lying to myself. I hate what Snow has made us do. I hate what he's going to continue to make us do. I hate Snow.

"I hate Snow," Peeta mutters, unconsciously echoing my inner thoughts.

I don't dare say anything out loud. And really, what could I say to make things better? Instead, I just hold him closer and wish we lived in a world where Peeta's and my family could be safe.

oOo

AN:
Written: 9/2/15
Revised: 9/17/15
Revised 2: 10/3/15
Betaread by RoseFyre, ForFutureReference & AmelinaZenitram

Some of the dialogue above has been appropriated from Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins. Basically if it sounds familiar, it likely is. Some lines are too good to pass up.

There was going to be a sex scene in this chapter, then I realized I couldn't write it. I wouldn't be able to do it justice. And frankly I didn't want to write it. Fade to black is better here and I don't want to curl up into a ball and cry for a week afterwards. Just a few days.

The next chapter will be delayed a week because of Prompts in Panem.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1 - everlark lover, Nik1627, deltagirl74, catnip851, Guest, Guest, Guest, Romanogers22, Emilee Amethyst, ReddWolf, Guest, 32sheshe

Anyways, I look forward to hearing what you think!